Annette Weber vs The Black Belt Demon - Troubled Waters

Match Type: Hentai Submission
Victory Conditions:Victory by submission through orgasm.

***

There were many reasons that Anesthesia wanted Makoto Aihara to be a pawn in her schemes. She was a skilled woman, one of the best submission artists in wrestling, and she filled a niche that neither she nor Sista A were truly up to.  While she could be timid and pensive, these were traits that could be damped with time, and when pushing came to shoving, she could be one of the most driven, determined women she had ever come across. There was also the distant chance that, if Aigle ever came back from Mongolia, she could be used as a means to recruit her former lover.

But, also, there was a perk that she hadn’t foreseen - the chance to put her in an outfit like this.

Spoiler:

It was funny, really, since this outfit was actually less revealing than the new standard attire she’d gotten Makoto to wear in her matches. It was even all that different from the schoolgirl swimsuit she’d worn to the beach matches at Rumble Roses. But something about those few missing inches truly seemed to irritate the Judo Babe, and convincing her to wear it was a chore...but a worthy one.

The two of them stood in the backstage area, looking at her in front of a mirror. Anesthesia approached her from behind and rubbed her shoulders, doing her best to ease the trepidation she had to be feeling. Makoto was breathing in huff, looking herself from head to toe, as if she was only now realizing what a treasure of a body she had. Anesthesia had been working on these feelings for the past few weeks, and it wasn’t as if she had to force it - a large part of why she’d come to her in the first place was to master hentai matches, and the Naughty Nurse was an expert in such matters.

They’d been close. They’d practiced. Shared things. Anesthesia had taught her all she knew about the titillating match type. But tutoring could only take her so far. ”Time to fly, baby bird.”

Makoto sighed at that and stepped back, taking a moment to run her hands over her stomach and feeling the tight fabric. ”This…” She sighed and turned back to Anesthesia. ”I’m not sure I can do this. Annette has way more experience than me, and we’ve only had our matches together, and I’m not used to anyone else, really, and I’m not ready, and-”

Anesthesia took a step forward and pressed their lips together, silencing her protests with a soft embrace. It took Makoto by surprise at first, but soon enough she adapted and reciprocated, showing the same sensual surges that she’d come to expect from the woman through their ‘training’. It was shocking how good of a lover the woman could be in the right circumstances, but she just needed a little push.

After a moment - a hot, tender moment - she pulled away, leaving a thin trail of saliva between them. She flicked it away and smiled. ”I beg to differ.” She moved around Makoto and gave her a loving caress at the cute backside of hers, cupping her cheeks with two wanting hands. ”You’re ready. You’re more than ready.” She leaned forward and licked at the young woman’s ear, slicking it and blowing hot breath over damp skin. ”Now. Go.”

A few minutes later and Makoto found herself out in the sun and surf, leaning against the turnbuckle as she looked around a familiar setting. Anesthesia had really gone all out to set this match up, getting the AFW to have this match in a ring that was surprisingly close to the old Wet and Wild Matches from Rumble Roses. The crowd hanging around on a sandy beach, the water all around the ring, the seagulls flying overhead, and the ocean waves crashing nearby...it was nice. It was familiar.

She allowed herself a small smile before hardening up, letting her face soften into a smug frown as she glared towards the entrance. She was going to win this. She was going to prove that she could handle whatever the AFW could throw at her. Annette was just going to be the start.

Would she think the belt was a little tacky?

No, no. What was she worrying about? She’d understand she was just trying to pay a little homage, show her appreciation. They were both martial artists after all. Not that Annette would really call herself that, but…

Maybe she would take that the wrong way. This wasn’t the kind of match you wore your belt to. Wore anything formal for that matter. Makoto was entering right about now, wasn’t she? Maybe if Ann could catch a glance on the monitor and see...crap, she wasn’t wearing her belt! Not even a uniform! Oh, you dummy. Why would she? She was a gold medalist. It wasn’t like she’d soil years of hard work, blood, and sweat on this. Ann should at least have the courtesy to do the same…

..but she really liked this outfit! She wanted to show it off so badly and she finally gets just the right opponent for and…

Contrary to the opinion of absolutely no one, Ann wasn’t usually a nervous person. Even if that person was Makoto Aihara. As a high school athlete herself, she’d followed the Japanese prodigy’s career a little further than most. It was inspiring in a way how someone so close to her own age - younger than her even - could climb so far. The idea of facing a true and tested Olympian only served to make her even more excited, both for the fight and everything after.

But for some reason, her modeling instincts decided now of all times to come back into play. She was on a beach and wrestling with a beautiful woman. Heaven at any other moment, in this one she was simply torn between a swimsuit and something more special. One of her favorite numbers was hanging right there just for this very occasion. It matched her eyes perfectly, shined well with her hair if she remembered what Harriet told her before that big conference in Sweden. But at the same time, she’d been getting back into her Jiu-Jitsu roots and had a freshly tailored gift from the Fate girls she’d been dying to show off for some time now. It looked expensive from the looks of it. It just needed the right occasion, the right person, to make it all work. Makoto would have been perfect but...on a beach? No, come on. There had to be some sense when it came to that brutal mistress named Fashion, tempting as it was.

Outside the door to her tiny prep room, she could hear a staff member approaching. There was an eager crowd outside that couldn’t be kept waiting much longer. She had to think of a compromise and she needed one quick. Uniform or swimsuit? Uniform or swimsuit? Formal or fun? Formal or fun? Think...think...think...oh.

There’s a thought.

Theme:

Annette Weber:

Her music wasn’t far behind the Norwegian model’s entrance. Those familiar techno beats sent a new wave of energy off the back of her opponent’s calm and collected appearance. Ann walked out as if the ramp lights highlighted her very own runway, hands at her hips and a slight sway with each step that showed a little more of what was under that dashing pink. She held a hand out as she made her descent, sending winks to the left and two-fingers with a kiss to the right.

“Hey, Ann! Pose!” Ann had to stop walking for a second and almost stuttered on the spot, letting a half-second of confusion control her face. For a second she forgot what she was wearing. But when she recovered, it was with a confident smile and a single hand-chop stance off to the side. It was too chessy-looking for even a B-list karate flick, but nobody seemed to care. The pop she got from the front row in fact made it impossible for her to keep a straight face. She held it for just long enough for the lucky guy to have his quick snap before she laughed it off over to the edge of the ring. It only took a moment for her to climb between the ropes and spot Makoto off at her corner, a cool smile growing on her lips.

“Wow wow wow. Ms. Aihara. I did not know what was hiding under that gi. It’s great you're finally showing it off a little more. There’s a lot to be proud of.” She leaned forward as she put a hand over her eyes, letting her gaze roam up and down tonight’s main event. Very nice. With a satisfied smile and nod, she started to make her way to the center, happy to meet Makoto there.

The Norwegian did her best to keep the atmosphere as sunny as the weather. If she remembered right, this kind of match was new territory for the Olympian. There were all sorts of nerves bundled up in that. She’d seen it most recently with the lovely Estelle Arnault, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine here. She had no problem easing into this match, especially for someone that earned the respect she’d gotten. “Don't be too disheartened if you can't keep up. You'll enjoy every moment.”

...Daft Punk?

Crap, Makoto liked Daft Punk.

She resisted the strong urge to dance as High Life came over the speakers, playing loud and giving her flashbacks to her time in Rumble Roses. Discovery had been one of Aigle’s favorite albums to listen to as they worked out together, which always took her by surprise. Her girlfriend had always been so rural, so fresh to the world, she would never have guessed electronic music would be something she could get into, but that was the case. Go figure.

Nights spent in the gym, working up a sweat. Sparring in the ring, Aigle tossing her around like a ragdoll. Heading back to the apartment, and then…

Ugh, she was tapping her foot.

The Black Belt Demon forced her mind out of that revelry and focused, stomping her foot as Annette made her way towards the ring, wearing an outfit that looked suspiciously like her normal one. She snorted at the sight of her smiling and playing up the fans, doing her little pose and getting the cheers like a good sheep. The woman looked like a regular ray of sunshine, all happy and bright and with that pep in her step. Saccharine enough to make the Black Belt Demon feel like she was about to puke, and that didn’t get any better when she came into the ring.

She stood there, arms folded, as Annette came into the ring and addressed, trying to play nice. ”Tch.” Figured, of course she’d be surprised to see Makoto dressed like this. Everyone thought she didn’t have a body because she had never showed it off, and now they were all acting surprised. As if it was weird for a Olympic level athlete to have a good body. Idiots.

”Yeah, I will. You won’t.” She sneered back at Annette and reached out to give her a poke in her generous chest. ”You’re the one who’s gonna have trouble keeping up with me. By the time I’m done, you won’t be able to walk in a straight line for a week.”

That sounded badass, right? It sounded badass in her head, but the delivery needed some work. She should probably put more bass in her voice.

Very good decision on the outfit on her part. Ann would give herself a little pat on the back for that one later. She’d planned to fully cover up when she got it, but thankfully with her bit of last-minute finesse, this might just be a look she could make work for some time. Though if she was being honest, she was hoping to get a bit of a better reaction out of Makoto.

Or anything at all frankly.

Annette wasn’t entirely sure what brought it on, but she found her mind flipping through old highschool memories only a few seconds after Makoto finished speaking. It was something profound in the tone and the way she spoke, the mannerisms in the way she seemed to handle herself. She could picture that same look some of the other girls used to give her with their backs to their lockers, hands tucked in the pockets of their hoodies and a cigarette in one mouth. All Makoto was missing was the black clothes.

It wasn’t what she was expecting from the young, ambitious rising Olyimpan she’d heard so much about halfway across the world. Ann felt her smile shrink in the presence of those cold eyes. The way she said it was actually rather adorable, especially with the poke that coincided. That would have sent her nothing but mixed signals anywhere else, but something in the back of her mind told her something more serious was at play. Something with real baggage. The Noreweigan decided to let it go for now and continue playing by ear. There was still a match to look forward to. Maybe Makoto was just more competitive than she’d given her credit for. Well, that just made two of them, didn’t it?

The model returned the kind gesture with a light poke to the smaller girl’s button nose. That hand came back to rest at her hip, revealing more of the sultry curves of her sides as the gi parted aside. Not that she couldn’t see what she had to look forward to already.

“Why? Are you taking me out for drinks?” Ann smiled and flashed a wink to the Judo girl before she took a skip back, allowing the official to step between them who was eager to get this all underway. Ann lowered into a comfortable stance, both hands out in a posture more in line with her BJJ lessons. She would circle the judoka for a moment, drawing an inch closer before lunging in for an eager lockup.

Makoto was the older wrestler, here. Seasoned and experienced, she had been in this business for a long while, longer than her youthful appearance would give off. While she had never held a title, she had come closer than 90% of the wrestlers in the AFW ever would, having come within reaching distance of the Rose of Roses on several occasions. She’d been up against some of the best - taken on the high-flying skills of Reiko Hinamoto, the unending power of Dixie Clemets, and the subtle technical skill of Muriel Spencer. A strong and storied background, and her transition to the Black Belt Demon didn’t change any of that.

It was a legacy worthy of respect - or, as she would prefer now, fear. It damn sure was worth more than a poke on the nose, which just made her all the more incensed when that was the response she got.

”Hey!” The gesture had taken by surprise, so much so that it slipped past her defenses with ease. It was only a little poke, but she staggered back all the same, her features going frazzled for a couple of seconds before she hardened them again. Her glare redhot, she sneered and stamped her foot into the mat, hissing through her clenched teeth. Say something menacing, say something badass, like…

”No! Just taking you out!”

Nailed it.

More than eager to get this started, the Black Belt Demon lowered into her stance after the bell rang and circled her foe, the two of them nearly mirroring each other. As much as she hated to admit it, Annette’s stance was perfect, down to the inch, a sign that this woman had some real talent to back up that goofy smile of hers. She was the taller woman, too, and while Makoto had been bulking up a bit under Anesthesia’s tutelage, she wasn’t confident she could overpower the Norweigian. Not just yet, anyway.

But there was one, big thing in her favor, here: Annette wore a gi. Makoto wasn’t. If she was going to insult her by aping her look, she would make sure her opponent regretted it.

When Annette moved in for a lockup, the Black Belt Demon came to meet her - or, appeared to at first. As they close in, she brought her arms close and shot forward, aiming to get a grip on the front of her gi. With that done, she’d move in, twist to the side, and attempt to pull this white-haired wench over her shoulder, looking to dump her flat on her back and establish the pecking order right away.

Ann snickered. She really, honestly did not mean to do so.

Makoto seemed to be taking things seriously. And maybe that was something she should have expected from someone with a gold medal. Ann couldn’t quite recall the last time she’d had the honor of meeting someone so competitive right off the bat, but either way, Makoto was easily the cutest person to put her foot down in her recent memory. The annoying glare and stern tone just seemed to match all in the right way with her pretty number and puffed cheeks. Ann hid the small laugh with a deft hand, but she doubted the judoka would miss the slight redness overtaking her snowy cheeks for the briefest moment. The demon was certainly making her tremble.

Still, what Makoto had in an uncontainable abundance was energy. Energy that Ann was very rarely at the center of. She much preferred quiet evenings with a shared bottle and Fitzgerald on the speaker, maybe with a warm fire in those chilly months. This raw, untamed energy was entirely different yet therein laid the temptation. Eager for a taste, she dashed forward.

The Norwegian was far from an expert when it came to strictly martial arts, but this was her playing field, not her opponent’s. A blue sky and a sunny beach and a bunch of clothes that wouldn’t stay on for much longer. This was her element and her stage to control so long as he had the desire to set the pace. The only thing that could keep her from coming out on top was her doubts and-

“Whoa!” A tug at her arm and Ann suddenly found herself flying over Makoto’s shoulder and barreling for the floor at a breakneck pace. The common mistake was to fight this kind of momentum but even slapping out didn’t save her from much of the burden. Hitting the ground was about as unpleasant as it looked as Ann’s back made a hard smack and rebound off the floor, biting back a pained gasp. She was far from deterred, however. Makoto wasn’t holding an inch back, which did nothing but reaffirm the Norwegian that she had to do the same.

Before the judoka released the grip on her gi, Ann reached out to grab hold of her arm and pull Makoto close. The model twisted around and threw her long legs up to scissor the Demon’s arm, pushing a foot into her face before reeling back in an improvised armbar.

Did Annette just snicker at her?

There was no way that Makoto would see her as anything but a roadblock, anyway, but that little snicker was enough to send her blood into overdrive, right off the bat. This little blond idiot was like so many others in her life, not taking her seriously, not realizing that she could be a real threat. Even after she beat them, they would still her treat her like some little girl, just because she smaller and didn’t carry herself the same way, like some stupid floozy. She’d heard that same, stupid giggle so many times, and it didn’t sound any better with Norweigen flavor.

It made it all the more satisfying when she scored the first throw of the match, however, flipping her foe up and over and dropping her hard on her back, hitting with enough impact to make her bounce up after the crash. A+. That was the sort of thing that would shut her up and make her realize she wasn’t in for some light, fun time at the beach, despite what the theme was. The Black Belt Demon was out for blood.

”What’s wrong?” Makoto smacked her teeth and started to lift Annette up, wanting to keep her momentum going. ”Not going the way you-”

Her arm was getting pulled down, yanked towards the floor, and the next thing Makoto knew, she had a foot in her face and her arm in a hold. A well-applied one, too, and done from an angle that even she hadn't often seen. A good move, as much as she hated to admit it - and oh, did she hate to admit it. She would have to get over that feeling, though, and focus on the important thing: not having her arm pulled out of its socket.

She had just enough time to link her fingers together, pulling against it with her free arm. She knew her time was short, so she pushed the foot on her face, trying to shove it off and slip free before she could cross her ankles and lock the hold in.

Wow, Makoto was a lot stronger than she looked. The Judo Girl- or Demon, she supposed- didn’t look weak by any stretch of the imagination, especially looking on from the outside whenever she handled an opponent with masterful grace and ease.

But that was a far cry from literally having your arm seized and thrown at a speed so fast that not even a single photon could catch your eye before hitting the ground. Ann had seen hours of her adversary’s Olympic performances beforehand but somehow. She’d been personally thrown herself long enough to earn her blue belt. This somehow felt...rougher. A lot more dangerous. Her mind was slowly becoming more convinced that the Japanese girl was more interested in destroying her than defeating her.

The Norwegian wasn’t without tricks of her own. It was mostly reflexes if she was being honest, but that was enough to get close. Ann made the most of her gifted flexibility and wrenched further back on the hold to keep Makoto’s arm close. Though the grunts told her how little the Japanese girl enjoyed it, it didn’t surprise Ann at all when Makoto started fighting back twice as hard. She did appear to be in a rather foul mood for such a lovely afternoon, as the pain her back could attest. Maybe that was something she could use, maybe not. But the simple fact was that there was a sizable skill gap between them that would be beyond silly for Ann to ignore.

Her legs may not have been able to lock in, but Ann could find another purpose for them. The model pulled her legs back and swung them around to the back of the Demon’s legs to cut them out from under her with a sweep from behind. If she managed to get her on her back, Ann would spring up and lay her prodigious chest across Makoto’s with her legs spread wide and tucked close, splaying her heavier weight across the judoka as she took up a side mount position.

Control your anger.

That had been one of Anesthesia’s biggest lessons, something the Black Belt Demon was still trying to fully employ. It wasn’t without hiccups, but it was far better than the way she’d been taught before, where her emotions had been kept in tight check, forcing her to keep one of her best tools off the table.

She was starting to understand why Anesthesia was so eager for this match and this stipulation - it was like Annette was custom made to piss her off. That much was obvious in her tone, the way she moved, everything, and she could only hope it didn’t cloud her judgment. Finding that perfect balance, that was the key.

At this moment, she wasn’t too sure of the results. While she was able to stymie Annette’s initial plan, her opponent was quick to adapt, switching things up and dropped Makoto with a swift sweep. Her followup was equally slick, catching the Black Belt Demon in a side mount before she could even truly think about getting up.

A good move, she could admit. Just not out loud. And the feel of their breasts mashing together, the hot breath in her ears, all that skin rubbing together...well, she was suddenly remembering this was a hentai match. Remembering too well.

But the Black Belt Demon had her options.

With Annette’s heavier weight coming into play, she decided to try for something more technical, put her flexibility to good use. It was a tight fit, but she squeezed her arm under her foe’s prodigious chest. Not the easiest task, but she squeezed it through enough to reach out and grab the ankle of her outside leg, pulling it in tight, just over her thigh.

From there, the Black Belt Demon attempted what her old instructor had called a ‘Jail Break’ escape - she shot the leg she’d pulled it out, pressing it against Annette’s thigh and pushing it away with all she had. At the same time, she straightened out and slid in under her foe’s body, bringing it between her legs, and reached out to try and capture her in a tight headlock.

It was good enough for Annette to just keep pace with the judoka. She came into this match without any reservations about her opponent’s performance. Makoto was more experienced than her and trained for a lot longer. Even with the slight difference in height and weight, it wouldn't amount to much if Ann just allowed her to control where they went. The goal was to shut her down quickly and work her way from there. It seemed like it was working rather well, much better than she expected. At least if Makoto’s rather interesting facial expressions were to suggest anything.

Honestly, she was just too fun to joke with.

But nevertheless, Ann had to press her advantage sooner rather than later. Her plan was to shift her position and perhaps lay her stomach over the Olympian's face; block her sight and attack one of them limbs to deny her chances of a reversal. Little did the former model understand, Makoto was already a step ahead with that.

The more technically-minded part of Ann knew that the judoka was going for more than a simple touch when she felt that arm push close to her chest. It’s exact destination was a mystery right up until she felt the Judo Girl’s foot reach her thigh. Ann let out a slight gasp at the realization but the damage had already been done and Makoto had straightened herself out. But not before she caught Ann’s head between her arms and shoved her face close

"Jailbreak...interesting...I never quite managed that one…" Her tone was strained, but still playful and without much concern. Why would it be? She had been in difficult spots before with opponents never quite this cute. In fact, after Makoto tucked her close, her tongue must have licked its way up Makoto's collarbone, tracing a quick line the length of her neck. How ever did that happen? “You’re so talented.”